Why I became a Profiler
by But I Have Promises To Keep
Summary: So you see on secret files Natara's friend is murdered in collage, inspiring her to become a profiler. So I thought I'd write their story…from the memories of Natara Williams.


**So you see on secret files Natara's friend is murdered in collage, inspiring her to become a profiler. So I thought I'd write their story…from the memories of Natara Williams.**

Natara was awoken by the sharp buzz of her alarm clock. She got up, she had forgotten to turn it off when she had informed Captain Yeong she wanted the day off. Her reasons were simple. Today was a memorial for Margot Evans. Today was they very day she'd been brutally murdered. When Natara's life had been changed forever, when she'd chosen the path to revenge. To switch from going into business to criminal psychology. She got up, knowing she wouldn't be able to go to the actual memorial. It was thousands of miles away where she'd attended collage, and she was not planning on flying all the way out for someone long gone. She would spend the day in reminiscence, honoring the long dead alone. She walked into the living room, reminding her if her dorm.

_"Natara!" yelled Margot "Get down here or I'm leaving without you!"._  
><em>"I'm coming!" yelled an nineteen year old Natara, she was carefully braiding her hair back, trying to make it look casual yet perfect. "I'm serious Natara!" yelled Margot. Natara scowled, she'd always envied her best friend. Her hair was a golden stick-straight blonde, and she seemingly got up and woke to how she always looked, perfect. Throwing down the numerous hair ties, Natara stomped down the stairs, where Margot muttered "about time." The two girls walked together, heading around the darkening campus.<em>  
><em>"Why'd we sign up for night classes?" Margot asked "Walking like this always makes me nervous"<em>  
><em>"Relax, no ones gonna attack you, unless your alone" Natara said, sprinting away from her companion.<em>  
><em>"Not funny!" cried Margot, chasing after Natara's shrinking form.<em>

Natara curled into the couch, turning on the television to a local channel, where they honored Margot on the screen. Where she could see her golden-haired mother standing among the group gathered in front of a small church. A clap of thunder made Natara look up, it was storming. Just like that night.

_"Natara!" Margot yelled, finally catching up to her outside their building as the two girls laughed even though they were out of breath. "Seriously don't do that" gasped Margot._  
><em>"What, afraid some squirrels gonna attack you again?" she said as an inside joke.<em>  
><em>"So you believe me then?" Margot said, smiling. She had long ago told Natara about how squirrels tried to trip her when they ran over her feet or dropped nuts on her. Natara hadn't believed her until they had been walking together and Natara had been caught in the line of fire.<em>  
><em>"Yeah, its hard not to when I still find acorns in my laptop bag" she joked as they entered.<em>  
><em>"Crap" said Margot "Forgot my book".<em>  
><em>"Wanna share mine or…" said Natara "Dakota Granger's book. I'm sure he'd love to share a book with the brilliant Margot Evans.".<em>  
><em>Margot smiled. "No way, I have a reputation to keep. I'm always prepared."<em>  
><em>Natara checked her watch "If we run we'll have enough time." Suddenly a clap of thunder sounded, rain suddenly pouring down.<em>  
><em>"No, I'll go alone. No need for us both to get soaked" she answered, exiting and sprinting through the rain. Natara walked inside a while, the first one there. The classroom slowly filled, but Margot did not return. The professor entered, taking attendance and pausing on Margot's name. He glanced at her empty desk and continued down the list. Natara couldn't concentrate on the lesson, she constantly glanced at the door. She worried and wondered about where Margot was. As class let out, she walked through the drizzling rain back to her dorm. She still felt somewhat hurt that Margot had skipped class without her, and confused that she had skipped at all. Margot was suppose to be the good one. As she unlocked her apartment, nothing could prepare her for the scene that met her eyes.<em>

Another clap of thunder drew her out of her memories, and she turned her attention back to the television. Margot's mother and father were on, and they were talking, surprisingly, about her.  
>"Yes, my daughter's best friend was inspired by Margot's murder and joined the FBI." she said somewhat proudly.<br>"She was also the one who found the body?" asked the pretty newslady. Margot's father nodded solemnly.

_Natara opened the door, seeing her best friend lying in the floor, blood pouring from the stab wound in her chest. "Margot!" she yelled, running to her best friend. She checked her pulse at her throat, her neck was still. She was dead. Then she saw him, a dark shadow moving across the room. Fleeing from Natara. From the scene. That was the last time Natara wanted to feel helpless and scared. She dialed 9-1-1, completely panicked. From that point of she didn't want to dial that number ever again. She wanted to be the one who came when another helpless victim needed saving._

She continued to watch the news, Margot's numerous family and friends being interviewed. Her little sister, a girl who looked exactly like her. A girl who Natara had found utterly broken at the death of her sister. The real reason she had become a profiler. She had met her at Margot's funeral, a sobbing twelve year old girl. She had comforted her, promising her she would become someone who could find the monster who did this and put him down. He eyes had widened at this, looking at Natara as if she had just given her the best gift ever. It was very soon after she had fought with her father, him arguing it wasn't a woman's place to do what she wanted to do. Her mother had argued that she wasn't making this decision for the right reasons, that it was to dangerous. She had ignored them both, her mother took it fairly well. Her father on the other hand, had left his mother. That had been part of the reason she'd changed her name, as if to separate herself from her family. But mostly she didn't want special treatment, her father was after all, the 113th richest man in the world. Next the news woman began talking about the killer, and that only brought back horrible memories.

_Natara was older, twenty-five or so. She had talked to the man, but could not hate him. She testified that he had been driven by madness, he was schizophrenic after all. She had seen the fear in his eyes, the hopeless void where, in other men, only held hate and lust. She couldn't hate him. He didn't know about his condition, he had been diagnosed shortly after his arrest. He had seen Margot walking and was afraid of her that day. Had been utterly terrified of her, wanted to get her before she got him. He had chased her back to her dorm, she had tried to lock the door but her shoes slid on the wet tile. He had grabbed a pocket knife he carried, he had grown up on a farm where one always had one on hand, and had brutally murdered her. He had since then, somewhat mastered his condition. Natara gave him a reassuring smile as he sat on the convicted side. She could not blame him, or hate him. She now and forever had been touched by mental illness, and would never forget the man who had changed her life forever._

Natara got up, turning off the television. Margot may be gone, but in a way she, through Natara, had saved countless lives. Natara dressed and went to pay and unexpected visit to the station, ready to help Margot save more innocent people like herself.


End file.
